


Runaway

by TheDisc (TheDisco)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: M/M, PWP, Pre-Ghoul Hancock, Trans Male Characters, bonding over hanjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 16:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15666741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDisco/pseuds/TheDisc
Summary: Nick goes out of his way to bring John McDonough to Diamond City again, but he can't bear to drag his friend home just yet. So for the night, Nick keeps the runaway in his bed, with the exact outcome that he should have seen coming.Strung out or not, this was still John they were talking about.





	Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> still haven't played fallout, babey !!!!  
> written for awfulradio.tumblr.com

The rain poured, matting down John's frizzy hair, soaking him to the bone. He hung his head low. Nick walked at his side, firmly gripping his arm as they went along. Rain bounced off his crooked hat and slid into every crevice of his body. If he stayed out too long, he might run into some issues with his hardware, but he would be fine for now.

The streets were dark and damp. Puddles splashed under their feet.

"I'm takin' you back to the agency tonight," Nick stated. "No sense in dragging you all around creation. Your folks might not even recognize you right now, considerin' you look like a drowned rat."

John couldn't even force a pity laugh. He just dragged his feet as he was lead along, pounding head lowered.

Once again, Nick had dug John out of a hairy situation. It was becoming more of a norm than either of them appreciated; John wanted to be totally left alone to rot in his assorted Jet dens, Nick wanted to sleep easy at night without the McDonough's breaking down his door because "Jonathan's missing again".

Ducking under the overhang of a building, Nick seized the chance to take his hat off and shake the water off of it. John stayed quiet and stubborn at his side, wet and cold creeping into his skin.

John was wearing a patchy hoodie, with more holes than fabric, and a pair of dirty jeans. The bags under his eyes only managed to highlight how miserable and strung out he was.

"At least you'll get a shower in before we get back," Nick said, in an attempt to break the silence.

"Yeah. Whatever."

All John could think about was the fact that Nick was just going to dump him back on his family's doorstep when be got the chance; no one seemed to realize that if John wanted to be home, he'd stay. He was always running off for a reason, and not because it was good for his health.

Lowly, Nick whistled, catching John's attention. The synth had replaced his hat on his head and lit a cigarette instead. His glowing eyes and the cherry-red of his ember were the only traces of colour in the otherwise misty, dreary place.

"So, what were you runnin' from this time, Johnny?" Nick finally asked.

John frowned. He wiped his running nose on the damp sleeve of his hoodie.

"Do we gotta do this here? I don't exactly feel like airing out my dirty laundry to the neighbhours."

John always made his voice sound deeper than it was before. Nick noticed now, however, that it did seem raspier, a little deeper and more natural.

He breathed deep on his cigarette, smoke escaping his cheek hole, then held the cigarette out to John.

"Fine, then I'll change up my questions. When was the last time you had somethin' to eat, or got some proper sleep?"

Rain pounded on the tin roof above them and John took the smoke. He shook his head and they continued on for the last bit of their journey.

"What's it matter? I'm still standing upright, aren't I?" The snark in John's voice didn't go unnoticed.

The 'Valentine's Detective Agency' sign popped into view and momentarily made John cringe. He raised his hand to it, in an attempt to block his sore eyes. "Besides, what do you care? If it weren't for my folks sending you out after me, you wouldn't give a shit what I do."

"You know that's not the truth," Nick replied, flat. He unlocked the door and held it open for John. "I hate knowing you're out there pumping your blood full'a chems, but I've got no business stoppin' you."

Nick shut the door, and John worked on pulling off his soaked hoodie.

"You're almost twenty, that's plenty old enough to be makin' your own decisions. Even if they aren't especially good ones."

John pulled the hoodie off over his head, then peeled it off his arms. He snuck the occasional glance over at Nick as he spoke.

The synth set his hat on the coatrack, and shrugged his jacket off. John noticed how jerky Nick's movements were now, probably brought on by the water getting into his pistons and hardware.

"I don't like the decisions you're makin' by any extent, and I'd rather see you safe and sound here in the city wih me and your folks, but it ain't my place to tell you what to do." Nick looked up, meeting John's face; his lips pursed gently, his brows lowered. "The only thing I can do is make sure you've got a warm bed when you want it, an' a place you feel safe when you need it."

John was only able to look at him for a moment, before he turned away, scratching at his hair. He sighed softly, eyeing the floor. He didn't know what to say back right away, so John shrugged.

"Thanks, I guess."

Nick pushed past John, who stood in the middle of the floor, to go for a cabinet in the corner. From it, Nick pulled a folded shirt and worn dress pants, which he promptly handed off to John.

"You'll catch your death of a cold if you stay in those wet clothes any longer, which is the saddest way to go in post-apocalypse, if you ask me." Nick smiled gently down at John, almost earning himself one in reply. "Go get changed and go to bed. Some sleep'd do you good."

Nick then added, bluntly, "You look like hell, after all."

Despite himself, John finally managed a smile with the corner of his mouth. John had this beautiful smile that could light up a room if he wanted, but recently Nick hadn't seen much of it. So, enjoyed it while he could.

"You're no spring rad-chicken yourself, Nicky," John said. His voice was softer now. "I can hear your joints from over here. Might need an oil change."

"Yeah, yuk it up, doll."

Nick smiled, and ruffled John's hair; John shook his head, smiling a little wider. He watched Nick's hand closely, and breathed a soft breath of relief when no clumps of hair came out with Nick's fingers.

Nick stepped around John to his desk. He sat down, kicked his feet up. "Go get changed. Help yourself to any food you find. Can't say there'll be much. I'm gonna stay here. Files to work on an' such."

"Yeah, don't worry about it." John started for the other room. "I'll gnaw on some nuts an' bolts I find."

From down the short hall, Nick called back, "You'd better not!"

John chuckled. He dropped the clean clothes down on the bed, then worked away at his undergarments. He didn't bother closing the door, though he did glance to it every so often. He wouldn't mind if Nick walked in right now; Nick was about the only person John felt that comfortable around.

After he dropped his damp boxers, John stepped into the dress pants, which were about two sizes too big and hung off his hips. He pulled them up best he could, then grabbed the shirt, which was loose enough that he didn't even need to unbutton it before tugging it on over his head. But at least it was warm and comfortable.

John dropped down on the bed, tension quickly dissipating through his body. His head still throbbed a bit, though a little sleep would help with that.

As he twisted amongst the flat pillows to get comfortable, John pressed his face into the loose collar of the shirt. Out of curiousity, he breathed in, and was met with the pleasant, musky smell of Nick's cologne.

Seemingly, the scent washed over his senses, calming him entirely. John sighed. He wriggled his way under the blankets, hands coming up so that he could bunch the chest of the shirt to his face. It smelled so much like Nick, the only thing John was missing was the weight beside him.

The sensation sent shivers through him. John rolled over onto his side, rubbing his thighs together in an attempt to distract himself. It was futile, of course; combining the smell of Nick and knowing that he was laying in Nick's bed after so long was having an impact on John that he didn't anticipate.

Oh well. John could handle this. He could easily ignore everything and get some sleep, as Nick had suggested, and hope that at some point Nick would join him.

Or he could take advantage of the situation. It was pretty hard to get off when you were sharing a filthy mattress with someone blacked out on Jet, and who smelled worse than you, so maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Biting his lip, John rolled over onto his stomach. He cocked his head enough that he could hear if Nick moved, then he slipped his hand under him, down the front of his pants.

John sighed, his voice a rasp.

He palmed himself to start, fingers rubbing back and forth over his warmth. He pressed his forehead more into the pillow, all while he held the bundle of shirt against his nose. As he breathed in again, John bucked his hips down against his fingers, grinding against them.

It was easy to find a rhythm from there.

John curled his fingers so he could tease the tips of his fingers against his hole, while he rubbed his cock against the heel of his palm. A pleased rumble escaped him, which was swallowed entirely by the pillow. The only sound that gave him away was the soft squeak of the bed with every thrust of his hips. Feeling ballsy, John kept up the slow and steady movements of his hips, hoping all the while that the squeaking bed stayed quiet.

After being pent up for so long-- easily two or three weeks since he had last been in Diamond City with Nick-- this all felt /amazing/. Especially when he paired it all with one of his favourite fantasies.

Pleasure built swiftly in John's gut, hot and aching. His cock throbbed, and in turn he dared to rut his hips down a little harder.

He imagined Nick being in there with him right now. On top of him, even, pressing him down into the bed with his weight. John sucked in a breath as he thought about how Nick's hands would feel on his sides, against his shoulders, and his thighs. Pulling him, manipulating him, all while whispering to him in that low, sultry voice he got every so often.

John hardly noticed how the bed groaned now. He rode his fingers, inching towards the relief he knew was so close.

Then, just as he dared to slip his fingers inside, another rasp of a moan coming from his mouth, Nick's heavy footsteps came into the doorway.

On instinct, John's body went stiff as stone. He didn't move, though he tried to relax his shoulders enough that he looked casual, maybe even asleep. It was a tactic he learned long ago, the product of living in close quarters with his family.

"...Sleepin' with the light on, eh?" Nick's voice was amused. The doorframe creaked as Nick leaned against it. "Afraid of the dark?"

John felt himself smirk into the pillow, just out of sight to Nick. He waited a second before muttering a groggy noise.

"Can you turn it off?" John mumbled. Carefully, he began to move his fingers. Slow and steady, he pumped them deep, heel of his palm pressed to his cock.

"In a moment, I suppose," Nick continued. "Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, but hey... No biggie."

Nick had a grin about him. "Sorry about that, then. But anyhow... Sounded to me like you were havin' a nightmare. Or you were hoppin' around on my poor old bed."

John moved his fingers faster. He barely suppressed the quivering moan in his throat.

"Oh yeah, it was a real scary nightmare. I dreamt you were still human, but like... Ugly. Crooked nose, missin' teeth, balloon eyes..."

"Charming. Sounds like it was a right terror."

"I'm still shaking, Nicky."

"If it scared you so badly, I suppose I oughta stay in here to keep you company. I only came in to get a file from my drawer, but then I heard you tryin' to collapse my bed." Nick pushed himself away from the door to come stand by the bed. He pulled his tie out, and unbuttoned his shirt. "Got enough room for two?"

"Sure, sure." John pulled his fingers out and he scooted to the side, though promptly his fingers returned to stroking his dick. "I'm not sure if you're gonna like what you're gonna find."

Once room was made, Nick shrugged his shirt off, set it aside on the nightstand, and slid into the bed. It dipped under him, sliding John towards him.

"I'm sure I'll get over myself."

John rolled over onto his side, putting his back to Nick. He bit his lip to keep his grin at bay. Nick shifted in under the blanket as well, his left arm swinging over John's side.

Nick breathed deep. His chest rattled as he rested his chin on John's shoulder.

Subtly as he could, John continued to move his hand. With Nick at his back, it only made him out to be more excited. He throbbed all over, almost shaking with want and excitement all the same.

But he held himself back the best he could. If there was a chance that Nick would get him off, he'd wait.

Sure enough, Nick's good hand came around, stroking the flesh under the hem of John's shirt. He felt his way along John's hip to his stomach, where it then paused at the top of his pants.

Nick cocked his brow.

"So that's what you were doin', huh?"

John couldn't hold his grin back any longer, acting as if he had been caught amidst a prank.

He withdrew his hand and tilted his head back to look at Nick. The bags under his eyes seemed even deeper now, but his grin was wide and cheeky. John took Nick's hand and guided it downwards, past his curls and to his aching cock.

"Now you can finish it for me, too," John stated.

Happily, he adjusted his hips on Nick's hand, while Nick bent his wrist and started stroking him steadily.

"Yup, leave me to finish what you started," Nick replied.

"You just do it so well, Nicky." John stretched his hand back to Nick's head, and guided him towards his mouth. His eyes slipped shut. "And besides... You drug me back here, you oughta take care of me."

John caught Nick's lips in a slow kiss upon saying that. Nick hummed, meeting all of John's movements with his own slow, methodical ones.

John's senses were assaulted with the taste of cigarette smoke. The smell of motor oil crept through the holes in Nick's system, hardly contained by the cologne Nick wore. It was addicting. John found himself moaning into Nick's mouth.

Nick couldn't taste or smell, but he could feel and hear everything. John's moans and the way he rocked his hips against him made Nick's engine grind. He kissed harder, more urgently, and withdrew his hand just long enough that he could tug the pants down John's thighs.

John didn't need to pause and think before he jumped in to help. Together, John got the pants around his ankles, then John kicked them off. Promptly, Nick hooked his arm around under John's leg, and he moved back in.

John sucked in a sharp breath as Nick returned to playing with his cock, stroking and rubbing. Occasionally his fingers dropped lower to tease his soaking hole, which only managed to make John gasp again.

"This alright?" Nick asked, breath brushing against John's lips. He sounded almost breathless himself.

"Better than alright," John managed.

John propped his leg up the best he could, nodding. His own hand dropped down to his cock, where he shooed Nick's hand away, and encouraged him lower. Nick took the hint, and ended up putting his mouth down against the side of John's neck as he slipped two fingers into his tight hole.

There was no way John would last long. Since Nick came in and started touching him, and laying against him, and breathing on him, John felt himself getting closer and closer to that hot coil in his groin. Desperately trying to reach it now, in an attempt to ease his throbbing cock, John rocked himself deep onto Nick's fingers, while stroking himself just as briskly.

Nick pressed his chest flush against John's back, hand working quick, but steadily. He could feel John's racing heart and the poke of his bony spine against his chest. A low moan of delight left Nick, too.

Then, all of a sudden, Nick said soft and low, "I hate seein' you go, you know."

John wasn't able to form coherent words. Nick curled his fingers so perfectly in time with each of his rolling thrusts and his strokes, John was on the edge, so close to release.

John gripped his leg. He mumbled, breathless, "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

Nick pressed a kiss to the nape of John's neck. If it hadn't been for John's sheer will, he would've came then as the pleasure and excitement shot through him.

"All I do is worry about ya when you're gone." Despite sounding heavy with lust, Nick's voice hardly faltered. "I wish you were here all the time, so I knew you were safe. With your family. With me. But I guess that's awful selfish of me, isn't it?"

John's heart was slamming. His entire lower-half was on fire, body burning as he tried to hold back, but Nick's fingers were so precise, and so persistent, John couldn't hang onto that feeling any longer.

As Nick's fingers pressed in deep, the heel of his palm pushed against John's stroking fingers as well, and John finally gave in with a shudder. His walls tensed and he came over Nick's fingers, body quaking. A moan left him as he jerked, and he said through gritted teeth, "Holy fuck, Nick!"

Nick eased John through his orgasm. He continued to work his fingers, though he moved slower, carefully milking John for everything he had. Eventually he had John reduced to a shuddering, panting mess against him. At this point he smiled more, and kissed John's sweaty temple.

"Could be nice, doin' this whenever you want," Nick said. He laughed softly after. "All you gotta do is settle down here."

Dazed and spent, John swallowed hard. He nodded, laughing weakly himself. "If things were different, Nicky, I'd never leave this fuckin' bed. But you know I won't stay."

Nick withdrew enough that he could return his arm around John's shoulder. He held him close, to which John had no complaints; he just brushed his frizzy hair back, and then shook a stray clump that came out with his fingertips. Nick pretended not to notice.

Nick let his chin come to rest on John's shoulder again. He breathed deep, finally relaxing entirely.

"...Wouldn't be the end of the world if you decided to stay in the city." Nick said after a moment. "Helluva lot safer. Saves everyone the trouble of worryin' about ya."

"You know why I won't stay." John's heavy eyes fell shut. His headache was coming back, a dull throb in the back of his head that made him want a smoke of some kind. "Don't make me feel worse than I already do."

"Just thought that maybe I'd be able to change your mind, is all."

They both knew it wouldn't happen. After that, John pretended to fall asleep, and Nick stayed curled at his side. At some point during the night, Nick found himself lulled into a fake sleep by the steady sounds of John's hollow breathing.

Come morning, John McDonough was gone again.

He left Nick's clothes in a pile on the floor, having gone with his own damp hoodie and jeans. Nick knew better than to chase after him.

For a while, Nick laid in bed contemplating. Everyone around the city called John a runaway; some even said he was ungrateful or stupid, but Nick knew better.

Maybe John was smarter than all of them. He recognized that nothing was going to be the same.

Then Nick thought-- maybe it isn't so bad to be a runaway, after all.


End file.
